


claret

by flirtingwithtrackers



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, fellatio instead of cunniligus, trust me i didn't expect this either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:59:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flirtingwithtrackers/pseuds/flirtingwithtrackers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>clar·et</b> (ˈklerət) <i>adjective</i>. also called <b>claret red</b>. a deep purplish-red color.</p><p>"He’s probably about to say another snarky remark when Clarke lowers her face to his and places a lipstick-stained kiss to the corner of his mouth."</p><p>or, the one where clarke buys new lipstick and then <i>sex</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	claret

**Author's Note:**

> this definitely stemmed from my newfound love for dark lipsticks, because it sure can make you feel powerful.
> 
> i hope it's not to OOC even though it's literally just in some modern au but
> 
> not beta-d because i was too embarrassed to have anyone do it (and yet i am posting it, whatevs)
> 
> hope you enjoy!!

Clarke searched the cosmetics isle of the drug store, scouring for a lipstick shade that 1) looked great on her and 2) would contrast well with Bellamy’s dark skin tone. It still wasn’t sure if this was the best idea, if he would even like it, but she was determined to at least try. It had been on her mind now for a few weeks, after she had left a smudged lipstick mark on his neck when they were at a small get together with some friends at the bar down the street.

He had been talking to Nate about something while Clarke was leaning into him, already a little drunk. She had put on a pink lipstick that matched her purse and the accent in her dress, trying to look nice for a night out. When Bellamy had finished his sentence, he turned towards her to press a small kiss to her temple and she retaliated by pressing her lips to the skin underneath his ear, leaving a very light pink shimmer of a smudge on his neck, before he turned back to his conversation with Miller.

Bellamy hadn’t notice, so that night when they went home, it was still there. Clarke was surprisingly very happy to find it sitting there, her mark on his neck, where everyone could have seen, _if only the color had been a bit more noticeable_.

She leaves the store a good 20 minutes later with a dark red lipstick that makes her look (and feel) just a little more naughty than normal.

***

She’s straddling his hips, looking down at him as he takes in the view above him. Clarke’s in nothing but a pair of light blue panties, with Bellamy lifting his hands to palm her breasts and tease her hardened nipples as she draws her fingernails up and down the skin sitting above the waistband of his boxers, settled in between her thighs. _Now or never_ , she thinks.

Bellamy looks at her curiously as she leans over to grab something out of her bedside table, but he doesn’t say he word. He silently watches as Clarke pulls out a tube of lipstick and returns to her original position sitting across his pelvis and he groans just a little at the pressure. Bellamy continues to stare at her as she opens the tube and smears the deep red across her lips once, then again. He wants to protest (he doesn’t really want that smeared all over him), but then he realizes he literally could not care less, that he’s probably down for whatever it is she’s doing, if only because it’s _her_.

Clarke finishes applying it and gives Bellamy a wicked grin that causes his dick to twitch underneath his girlfriend’s ass, which makes her smile wider. He’s still staring at her lips as she bends over his chest and begins drawing the tip of the lipstick over the tanned skin there. Bellamy cannot read what his girlfriend is writing until she sits up, removing her veil of hair out of his view.

He sees “MINE” written in her rounded handwriting with the lipstick’s ruddy shade across his chest and he smirks up at her, _Oh yeah, princess?_ He’s probably about to say another snarky remark when Clarke lowers her face to his and places a lipstick-stained kiss to the corner of his mouth. When she pulls away and sees the mark she left, Clarke’s heart begins to pound in her chest and she can’t help the possessive smirk that takes over her face.

Bellamy has no idea what to do with the woman in front (err, well, on top of) him. This isn’t the first time she’s taken control in the bedroom, _or outside of it_ , but this is definitely the first time she’s looked so excited about it. Her grin literally knocks the air out of his chest, because _she is so devastatingly beautiful sometimes_ , and that fucking lipstick isn’t helping.

Bellamy can’t help the shiver that runs through him at the look Clarke gives him after she’s basically claimed him as hers (not that he minds _at all_ ), and doesn’t know if he’s going to make it through whatever she has planned for him. Bellamy is seriously worried he may just die if she keeps looking at him like that, like she wants to bite into his skin and claim all of him as her own. Bellamy prays his libido will make it through her plans as well. Bellamy wants nothing more than to flip them over and pin her down into his mattress, but the look on her face tells him not to, and his curiosity forbids him. Bellamy feels like he may get in trouble and the thought causes him to squeeze his eyes shut and stifle a low groan.

Clarke starts making her way down his body, leaving lipstick marks in her wake—under his ear, above his collarbone, over his sternum, down the middle of his abs. She leaves clear evidence of her descent, placing a final kiss mark right above his boxers before she grabs at the elastic and starts pulling them down. Bellamy’s erection slaps up against his stomach, _shit, shit, shit_ , as Clarke pulls his boxers all the way off and throws them across the room. She places herself in between his legs, kneeling on the mattress, before leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to the tip of his cock, leaving it lightly tinted red.

Clarke can hear Bellamy’s sharp intake of breath (and a curse word, probably) and can seen the muscles in his abdomen contract as she breathes over him. The blonde lifts her blue eyes to look at him from under her eyelashes before wrapping her lips around the head of his cock. Bellamy gently places his hands in her hair, pulling lightly on the strands as she takes more of him in her mouth before coming back to the tip to swirl her tongue around it. Clarke almost doesn’t hear the hiss that escapes his mouth, but hums when she does, eliciting more noise from him. She hears a litany of curse words as she continues bobbing her head, taking as much of his cock into her mouth as she can and stimulating what she can’t reach with her hands wrapped around his base.

Though Bellamy has his eyes shut tight as he tries to keep himself under control, he forces himself to look down at Clarke, admiring the wine color that still adorns the lips now wrapped tightly around his cock, and fuck, he relinquishes a little control as he groans at the sight. Clarke can feel his tension as he tries to keep it together, _like he always does, the stubborn bastard_ , so she lets his cock fall out of her mouth, accompanied by an obscene noise that makes Bellamy cringe but also seems to fuel his libido just a bit.

Clarke drags her finger around the edge of her lips, to fix any smudges, and Bellamy follows the action with his eyes. Even from down here, she can see the way his pupils are blown out and his lips stay parted as he stares at her in fascination. She continues working him with her hands, telling him how much she wants him to cum for her as she licks up the underside of his cock in between her words or drops another kiss to his tip or down his shaft.

When Bellamy grips the hair in her hand a little harder, _Jesus Christ, Clarke_ , she gives him a meaningful look as she settles back on her ankles and lowers herself to wrap her lips around him once more. As she begins to move down his shaft, Bellamy’s hand begins to gently guide her motions, slowly speeding her up, _fuck_ , while he tries to make eye contact with her to make sure she’s okay.

With his guidance, he’s coming into her mouth with a loud groan and she sits up, wiping her mouth before swallowing, smearing some red across her top lip. He gapes at her and the small smile of her red-stained lips before pulling her so he can kiss her, oblivious or uncaring to the lipstick he just smeared onto his own lips. She snuggles up to his side and he chuckles before asking her _what the **fuck** that was all about_.

***

In the morning, Clarke wakes up, tightly bound in white sheets and an arm clamped securely around her waist. She lifts herself up enough to see the red stains on the sheets (and later on her chest and, of course, his) and giggles to herself. Clarke isn’t the only one laughing when she finds the messy “MINE” written down the inside of her thigh and another scrawled in between her breasts once they get out of bed, ones to match the much more smeared one she can faintly see across Bellamy’s chest.

Purchase officially justified (especially after Bellamy whispers, _you should wear that color more often_ , in her ear later).

**Author's Note:**

> **imaging a shade like MAC's "stunner" or something a little darker
> 
> i could never have expected ever writing an oral for bellarke that didn't involve bellamy going down on clarke, but here we are! i am attempting some bellamy going down on clarke in the sequel for my other fic, so if you want to see my poor attempt at that...
> 
> i'm on [tumblr](http://clarkeslight.tumblr.com) if you wanna chat :))


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